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SEATTLE MEMORIES 


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Chief Sealth in I860 

The City of Seattle was named after this Chieftain 
















SEATTLE MEMORIES 


BY 

EDITH SANDERSON REDFIELD 



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BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 




























Copyright, 1930, 

By Edith Sanderson Redfield 

All Rights Reserved 

Seattle Memories 






Printed in U. S. A. 



©CIA 31300 




Dedicated 

to 

Those who in the years to come 
may care. 



1 


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4 

1 


















SEATTLE 

’Twas named for Sealth long years ago 
By sturdy pioneers who came with slow 
And plodding tread to make a home: 

This wilderness to claim. 

’Twas Sealth who roamed this virgin shore 
Suquamish tribal honors wore, 

His right to live and leave a race 
Of Redmen dwelling in this place. 

All, all are gone, the men, tepees 
E’en gone the trickling streams, the trees. 

Seattle now in pride surveys 

Its ports—its buildings—railroads—ways. 

Where money comes and money goes; 

Whose right supreme? Who cares? Who knows? 


E. S. R. 
















CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

I. Seattle as I Found It.13 

II. Early History.23 

III. Sawmill Stories.31 

IV. The New Home —1871.34 

V. Vigilantes —1882 45 

VI. The First Railroad. 49 

VII. School Days.53 

VIII. Visiting U. S. Presidents.55 

IX. Mystery Ships.56 

X. Chinese Troubles.58 

XI. The Fire — June 6, 1889 . 69 

XII. Reconstruction .74 

XIII. Gold— 1896 . 76 

XIV. The New Century — 1900 . 78 


9 
















LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


Chief Sealth in I860 . Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

Occidental Hotel, 1869 14 

University of Washington, 1861.22 

Arthur A. Denny and Mary Ann Denny ... 38 

The City of Seattle in 1878 ..40 

'Three Orphans”.44 

The Columns.54 

The Old Yesler Home.64 

Mount Rainier.74 


11 












SEATTLE MEMORIES 


CHAPTER I 
Seattle As I Found It 

We came from Boston, Father, Mother, and I, on an 
overcrowded steamer—three women and three babies 
in one stateroom, husbands in another—convoyed by 
gunboat to Panama, across the Isthmus by railroad, and 
up the Pacific Coast on another and more comfort¬ 
able steamer to San Francisco; this in 1865. Again in 
1869 on the ship Marmion, Capt. Boyd, and two weeks 
of buffeting the storm. 

What a peaceful haven inside the Straits of San Juan 
de Fuca seemed Puget Sound! 

The Coast and the Cascade ranges of mountains on 
either shore of Puget Sound were just as white in Jan¬ 
uary 1869 as to-day; the low, dark fir line and the 
rippling blue waters made a picture just as inspiring 
then as now. Mount Rainier to the south. Mount 
Baker to the north, were there. 

As we approached Elliott Bay, before us was the set¬ 
ting for a great city, a few dots of light, a wooded 

13 


14 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


hillside, one very tall maple-tree, and we were at home. 

The village even then was not a place of "rude crud¬ 
ity”. There were Yesler’s Wharf and Yesler s sawmill, 
the latter of which gave the name to Mill Street. Up 
from the wharf on Mill Street were the Post Office, 
Reinig’s bakery, Kellogg’s drug store; turning the cor¬ 
ner to Commercial Street were Frauenthal’s dry goods 
store and Stone, Hinds & Burnett’s general merchan¬ 
dise; farther south lived Dr. Maynard, and on the 
Point were the homes of the Plummers and the 
Car keeks. The village center, larger than the present 
Pioneer Square, was then dominated by the Occidental 
Hotel kept by Mr. John Collins. James Street started 
from this square and was honored by the Yesler home 
and garden, and up the hill were the Hillory Butler 
house, the Libby house, and the Terry house, all claim¬ 
ing James Street. Large maples overhung the Yesler 
sidewalk, and within the fences was a fine garden, with 
fruit-trees, berry-bushes, and many kinds of flowers. 
Along the waterfront was Front Street,—later First 
Street—an unpaved road with wooden sidewalk. Then 
there were Second, Third, and Fourth Streets, a 
sprinkling of houses, two churches, and a country road 
climbing through the wild woods to find Lake Washing- 



Occidental Hotel, 1869 

























SEATTLE AS I FOUND IT 


15 


ton. Out on First, and to the north from the Mill and 
Hotel, was the A. A. Denny residence, with white, 
sharp-gabled roof with fancy scroll-work trimmings; 
about an acre of land was fenced, and here, in plan¬ 
tation style, with stable and farmhouses, lived Mr. and 
Mrs. Arthur A. Denny and family until the fast-grow¬ 
ing city demanded their cow pasture for business build¬ 
ing-lots. 

David Denny, a brother, settled farther out along the 
waterfront, as did also Mr. Bell. To reach Belltown, 
we used to cross a deep ravine on a fallen tree. Denny 
Way and Bell Street are reminders of their locations. 

Even in 1869, a large, square, white building with a 
portico supported by Ionic columns topped the village 
hill; footpaths wound in and out beneath the fir-trees 
where boys and girls, now grown to men and women, 
had climbed the hill at the call of the University bell. 
The Territorial University buildings were located upon 
a ten-acre tract given by Mr. Arthur A. Denny for edu¬ 
cational purposes. Nor was this all the earliest people 
had done. Two spires vied with the tall trees to point 
the way to higher things: one was white and one was 
brown, and both were Methodist spires. Rev. Daniel 
Bagley preached beneath the brown a Protestant Metho- 


16 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


dist sermon, and Rev. Atwood conducted under the 
white a Methodist Episcopal service. The Roman 
Catholics had Father F. X. Prefontaine to lead them. 
The Presbyterians were organized, but without the 
proper number to be elders. The Episcopalians 
had for Rector Rev. P. H. Hyland; the Congre- 
gationalists formed a unit and called Rev. John F. 
Damon. Thus the village of about three hundred 
souls had two church buildings and six organizations to 
carry on religious activities. Our first residence was the 
Libby house, just east of the Occidental Hotel, a wide- 
verandaed white house, located in an orchard of fine 
bearing fruit-trees, on James Street; and north on Third 
were other houses similar in style, where lived the 
Shoreys and Meydenbauers and the McCarthys. We 
all went to Mrs. Whitworth’s school. On Fourth 
Street where a vine-covered brick structure of English 
type stands to-day, the Rainier Club, was the lovely 
garden of "Auntie Young", as we called her. 

There were no carriages, not even a hearse, but two 
delivery wagons, and a few wood wagons. There were 
few horses, and each family had its cow. Nothing came 
to us from across the mountains, the merchandise being 
brought in irregularly by sailing vessels, save for a 


SEATTLE AS I FOUND IT 


17 


monthly steamer from San Francisco to Victoria. It 
seems a marvel, in these later days, that there was so 
much to make life comfortable and happy. 


Seattle’s Distinguished Visitor 

One summer evening that first year, Mrs. Yesler 
came up the hill and told Mother that she had some 
interesting news for her. Mrs. Yesler was a short, stout 
little lady, always well dressed; she had bright blue 
eyes and a kindly smile. "Secretary William Seward 
is coming in on the steamer from Victoria; he has been 
north to see Alaska. I want you and Edith to come 
with me to call upon the party”. She had a formal 
bouquet for me to present to Mr. Seward. 

They arrived about nine o’clock; six or seven gentle¬ 
men greeted us, and one, quite young, said, "My 
father is tired and has gone to bed, but for this I must 
call him”. 

When Secretary Seward arrived, he seemed much 
pleased to see us, and in accepting the flowers his man¬ 
ner was gentle and kindly. He showed us the scar on 
his neck where he had been wounded on the night of 
Lincoln’s assassination. 


18 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


Christmas, 1870 

I wonder who had calendars in those days. We 
never lost the routine; we had Fourth of July, Christ¬ 
mas, and New Year’s just like Boston folk. Well, this 
was our first Christmas in Seattle. It was to be cele¬ 
brated by a community tree,—the place was Yesler’s 
Hall, a room over Kellogg’s drug store—on Mill and 
Commercial Streets. There were festoons of cedar and 
a wide-spreading fir-tree. How they all worked, 
arranging pop-corn, cornucopias, colored candles, and 
flecks of cotton batting, and they lighted the candles, 
too. Each family brought its gifts, one to the other. 
The Sunday school children sang, ‘‘Glory To God in 
the Highest”, and every one went home laden with 
what Santa Claus had given him. 

Home-Building 

We had felt the charm of the little village and the 
friendly people, and Father and Mother decided to 
build them a home. So two lots, sixty by one hundred 
and twenty feet in size, were purchased on Third and 
Seneca Streets,—there was a path to the corner, and 
you will pardon me if I tell you that these lots were 
purchased from Mr. Carson D. Boren for $150.00 



SEATTLE AS I FOUND IT 


19 


apiece. We had been paying what the others consid¬ 
ered a high rental for the Libby house, $15.00 per 
month. Mr. McRedmond built a plastered house—not 
outside as now, but inside for a finish; the other houses 
had "cloth and papered walls”,—a five-room, story- 
and-a-half house. I remember our maple-tree espe¬ 
cially,—so tall it was that the Indians called it a land¬ 
mark,—and probably Sealth, paddling his canoe across 
the Sound, shaped his course by that same rounded 
green top. I have seen many Indian canoes landing at 
the foot of Seneca Street and Madison Street, and many 
Indian women have brought us "oolalies” and clams 
and mallard ducks. 

Plymouth Church 

Before we left the Second and James Street house, 
there was brought together a group of five persons who 
adopted the creed and Constitution of the first Congre¬ 
gational Church of San Francisco, and so here, January, 
1870, was organized Plymouth Congregational Church. 
This group were Mr. and Mrs. John H. Sanderson, Mr. 
and Mrs. John W. Denny, and Mr. George Farley. Rev. 
John F. Damon was called as pastor, and services were 
held each week in a new hall called the Pavilion on 



20 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


First Street near Cherry. This hall served as court 
house, Convention Hall, and house of amusement. On 
week days the floor was covered with sawdust, which 
was swept up for Sunday service, benches served as 
pews, and on Sunday when the congregation sat on 
benches, straight and unsupported, Mr. Damon an¬ 
nounced, "To-day, you have seats without backs. Next 
Sunday, we hope to have backs without seats”. 

Mrs. Russell made music from that little foot-pumped 
organ, and Mrs. David Kellogg and Mrs. Hemenway, 
Mr. C. R. Lord, and Mr. O’Brien rendered hymns and 
voluntaries which were greatly appreciated. 

From the far-away days comes the memory of a 
singer and a song: Lizzie Bell and "Under the Daisies”. 
It may sound melancholy to you, but the sweetness of 
that voice, so soon hushed, carried a subtle power to 
perpetuate itself. There was a sister, Lily Bell, later 
Mrs. Whittlesey, and both were charming singers. 

The Festival of Song 

The programme given September 5th and 6th, 1870, 
is shown on pages 21 and 22. 

All Seattle was in the Audience, and all the children 
were on the stage. Leilla Shorey and Dora Hall in 
duet; Emma Atkins, soloist. 


SEATTLE AS I FOUND IT 


21 






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22 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 



























University of Washington, 1861 






























































































































CHAPTER II 


Early History 

There were in the first settlement, on Alki Point, 
twelve adults and eight children. The schooner Exact, 
Captain Folger, brought the new settlers from Portland, 
Oregon, and they landed in November 1851. This little 
company had previously come from Illinois, and had 
crossed the mountains in "covered wagons" drawn by 
oxen. 

Alki means "by and by", and these sturdy pioneers 
had a vision of the city to be. Their families in first, 
one log cabin built by their own hands, then other 
cabins. Their days were not easy days; life was 
strenuous for these men. As we read their story or 
hear it from their grandchildren, there are repeated the 
names of Denny, Low, and Terry. Furnishing clam 
broth for the baby, salmon, with an occasional duck, 
for the others, with Indians curiously watching the 
family activities, hewing down the forest for wood and 
logs to load a brig at anchor, such were their daily 


23 


24 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


tasks. And here is a sentence: "It was raining almost 
every day”. 

The anchorage and harbor at Alki Point were not so 
desirable as across in Elliott Bay, so in February, 1852, 
they decided to locate on the present site of Seattle. 

Mr. A. A. Denny, Mr. C. D. Boren, and Mr. W. N. 
Bell marked their claims, and May 23, 1853, Arthur A. 
Denny, Carson D. Boren, and Dr. D. S. Maynard filed 
the first plat of the town of Seattle. 

Chief Sealth, or Seattle, for whom the town was 
named, was of the Flathead tribe, and was born at the 
"Old Man-house” across the Sound, where is now the 
Port Madison Indian Reservation, and also the town of 
Suquamish. 

Chief Seattle’s father was a Suquamish Indian, his 
mother was a Duwamish, and he lived to be eighty 
years old. A monument marks his last resting-place at 
Suquamish. Angeline, the daughter of Chief Seattle, 
was a familiar figure in the ’70’s or ’80’s, as she went up 
and down the streets of Seattle barefooted in the cold¬ 
est weather. She lived down the bank near the foot of 
Pike Street in filth and squalor. In her last years, trudg¬ 
ing along with a stout stick for a cane, wearing a bright 
plaid shawl, and a gaudy red cotton handkerchief tied 


EARLY HISTORY 


25 


over her head, with her deeply wrinkled bronze face 
and watery blue eyes, she unfortunately aroused a 
spirit of antagonism among the cruel boys. They jeered 
at her and threw stones until her patience became ex¬ 
hausted, and she retaliated by calling them ugly names 
and pounding her stick violently. 

Angeline had many friends among the old settlers. 
'^Car Dave Kellogg?” she would say entering a certain 
store, and from Mr. Kellogg she never went away 
empty-handed; her money, her meals all came as the 
need came, but she lived her own way with her grand¬ 
son, Joe Foster. 

Her proudest experience was probably the day she 
represented Seattle in the celebration given President 
Harrison. On Yesler Way and Pioneer Square the citi¬ 
zens had erected a raised platform, with a covered way 
in event of rain, and here, proudly decked in a new 
shawl and with a red bandana tied on her head, Ange¬ 
line extended the hand of welcome to the great ”tyee of 
the whites”. ^^Klahowyd\ she said with the inherent 
dignity of her race. Thus Princess Angeline received 
the President of the United States. 

Now she lies in Lake View Cemetery in the heart 
of Seattle, where, too, are many of her white friends. 


26 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


Chinook 

Yes, we had a native dialect. Klahowya? (how do 
you do?). Merci, (thank you). Nawitka, (yes). It 
was the trader’s language, evolved by the Hudson Bay 
Co. for the purpose of communication between different 
Indian tribes and the white settlers or traders. It was 
a jargon of French, Indian, and coined words. 

Kultus was a very expressive word, meaning utterly 
worthless. To say a man was kultus was to pronounce 
him entirely depraved. Potlatch signified a gift, and 
to answer Halo potlatch was a sign of poverty: nothing 
to give. A man’s wealth was reckoned by his gifts. 
The Chinook was used on the Indian reservations, in 
the chapel services and following is the Lord’s Prayer, 
which I heard repeated in unison by about fifty Indians 
on the Puyallup Reservation: 

Nesika papa klaxta mitlite kopa sahale 
kloshe kopa nesika tumtum mika nem; 
kloshe mika tyee kopa konaway tilakum; 
kloshe mika tumtum kopa illahe kahkwa 
kopa sahale; potlatch konaway sun nesika 
muckamuck, pee kopet-kumtuks konaway 
nesika mesache, kahkwa nesika mamook 
kopa klaska spose mamook mesahche kopa 
nesika; marsh siah kopa nesika konaway 
mesahche. Kloshe kahkwa. 


EARLY HISTORY 


27 


The Indian War 

One day we went to see Mrs. Hanford,—up James 
Street on the right-hand corner of Fifth. Dear old 
white-haired Mrs. Hanford! You will see Abbie J. 
Hanford’s name as a member of the Baptist Church 
and a charter member of the Ladies’ Relief Society,— 
Seattle’s first charitable organization. Taking a foot¬ 
stool, she called me to her, and at her feet I learned of 
the Indian War. The only tragic part remained in my 
memory, but in later years the whole story was learned. 

There were many Indians up and down the Sound 
belonging to various tribes. The Flathead Indians were 
peaceful fishermen, but east of the Mountains the In¬ 
dians were more vigorous, and consequently more in¬ 
clined to resent the encroachments of the Whites, or 
King George’s men, as they called them. The Hudson 
Bay Co.’s trappers were the first to approach these 
natives, and the Indians did not distinguish between the 
white races,—henceforth all white men were called 
King George’s men. 

Governor Stevens had made treaties with the 
Snoqualmie, Yakima, and other Indian tribes, and this 
made the settlers feel secure from their hostility. 
The White River Farmers went to work to clear the 


28 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


ground and plant their crops, and all seemed peaceful 
about the Sound Country. 

Then came rumors of intrigue; several braves crossed 
the mountains by way of Snoqualmie pass, mingled 
with the peaceful tribes, and incited them to rise and 
try to exterminate the encroaching white men. For 
a year this uneasiness prevailed; at one time the outside 
farmers abandoned their homes and came to Seattle for 
protection. Then the blockhouses were started, which 
were forts made of logs with loopholes for rifle-shoot¬ 
ing. After this. Acting Governor Mason took some 
soldiers from Fort Steilacoom, and in an interview with 
the Indians he tried to make it plain to them that the 
"King George’s men” were friendly and peaceful. The 
White River people returned to their farms and all 
seemed well. This was in the January of 1855 . The 
U. S. Sloop Decatur came north, and when she entered 
the bay, the settlers sent out word to the captain re¬ 
questing protection. Doubtless had she not been there, 
the settlement would have been exterminated. 

Within a fortnight occurred the White River 
massacre; eight persons were killed and their houses 
burned. This was October 28 , 1855 , and from that 
time on the Seattle settlement prepared for hostilities. 


EARLY HISTORY 


29 


Two forts were built of timbers twelve inches square, 
and a stockade connecting them running down to the 
water; food and ammunition were placed in this fort, 
and the remaining white men and the Duwamish 
River settlers took up their abode in the fort; also most 
of the families of the village. The men were organi 2 ed 
for duty, the Decatur remained in the bay. Pat Kanim 
came from Snoqualmie with his women and children 
and proved his friendliness by warning a white friend 
on the morning of the attack. 

Early on the morning of January 26, 1856, came the 
cry: '*The Indians”! and all who were sleeping outside 
the blockhouse ran into cover. A howitzer was fired 
from the Decatur by order of Captain Sterrett, who later 
was relieved and succeeded by Captain Gansevort. 
They aimed toward the hill south of James Street, and 
back came a volley of musketry. The Indians had 
crossed Lake Washington in canoes, and there were 
armed Indians by the hundreds all through the woods 
back of the village. The firing was kept up all day; 
two houses were burned and several houses looted, 
everything of value being carried off, and two lives 
paid the penalty, those of Robert Wilson and William 
J. Holgate. Mrs. Hanford’s brother, Mr. Holgate, was 


30 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


standing in the door of the Cherry Street Fort when the 
fatal shot sped to its mark, and Mrs. Hanford was just 
inside, holding a baby in her arms. Away into the fall 
there were outbreaks here and there, the farms were 
abandoned, the settlers were discouraged, and many 
left the country. It was a time of depression and want. 

There were brave men, however, and men true to 
the needs of the country, and the cabin fires were not all 
extinguished. 


CHAPTER III 


Sawmill Stories 

As the first settlers earned their living by logging at 
Alki Point, the timber growing down to the shore of 
the Sound in a dense pine, fir and hemlock forest, with 
now and then enormous cedar-trees, or the maple and 
alder,—where the land was well watered. Lumber was 
the natural product. This caused shipping centers, or 
ports, as they were called, to be developed. There were 
Port Madison, Port Ludlow, Port Orchard, and the 
Port of Entry, Port Townsend. These sawmill ports 
were like little kingdoms, a law unto themselves; some¬ 
times the owners lived elsewhere and a superintendent 
was the over-lord. Here white men, Indians, China¬ 
men, and Kanakas worked side by side and boarded at 
the Company’s cook-house. Seattle’s mill was the 
Yesler sawmill. Small steamers plied daily to these 
ports from Seattle, and the visiting families were 
always a welcome diversion in the Seattle homes. There 

were a few families of the skilled workmen in everv 

0 

port, and sailing vessels from all parts of the world 


31 


32 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


often brought the Captain’s wife and children. One 
exciting episode came to our knowledge, as Mrs. 

B-was a guest in our home. At a certain port, 

the San Francisco owners and the resident owners were 
having friction in money matters. An attorney was 
sent up from San Francisco to inquire into and check 
up the affairs of the Company in the north. Mr. 


B-accompanied by Mrs. B-went over to 

the port to obtain the Company’s books. While Mr. 
B- was in the office, Mrs. B- remained 


aboard the steamer. There were several sharp toots, 
and the vessel left her moorings with full steam ahead. 
The Captain was blindfolded and one of these men 

took the wheel. Mrs. B- kept calm until she 

saw the boat was not making for Seattle, but down the 
Sound. Then she was told that they were going to put 
her ashore, and she was forced to enter a small row¬ 
boat and landed on a wild, wooded shore. They left 

her alone on the beach. Mrs. B-was about fifty 

years old, a woman unaccustomed to hardship; the tide 
was coming in, and the banks were high. It seemed 
desperately lonely. 

She told us how she tried to find a place to climb 
above the high-tide mark; her hands were cut and 










SAWMILL STORIES 


33 


bleeding and her strength almost gone when she heard 
across the water the beat of oars; then a boat came in 
view, bringing her husband and two other men to her 
rescue. 

That night the sawmill burned, and the steamer was 
in Canadian Waters. 


CHAPTER IV 


The New Home— 1871 

The house was ready, and we moved to our own 
home at Third and Seneca Street. 

In a new place a family must have heat, light, and 
water, as well as shelter. The wood was abundant, 
candles and kerosene lamps could be bought, but water 
becomes the subject of much conversation when not 
available. The neighbors’ well is helpful, but it is 
arduous to provide sufficient for a family’s need by the 
bucketful. 

A well-digger was found,—yes, we used the hazel 
divining-rod. It pointed to a place too far from the 
house, so Father ordered the men to dig by the back 
porch; deeper and deeper went the well, and then up 
came petrified mussel shells at sixty feet. They stopped; 
this was tragic news, as they charged $1.00 per foot, 
and no water yet. Where did that beautiful maple-tree 
find its drinking-water.? The shaft was covered over 
and abandoned. After a few days they dropped a stone 

34 


THE NEW HOME—1871 


35 


down into the depths and a splash was heard. There 
was water, clear cold water, sufficient for all household 
purposes for several years. 

The evolution of Seattle’s water supply was as fol¬ 
lows: The southern part of the village was originally 
supplied with water from a cistern built by Mr. Yesler 
in the neighborhood of James and Mill Streets, near 
Fourth. Later, Mr. Arthur A. Denny found a spring 
which he enclosed in a reservoir on Ninth Street near 
University. This was connected with a system of 
wooden pipes laid underground, and supplied the 
northern or newer part of the town. As the need 
grew, there came Mr. Coppin, who, more pretentious 
than the others, erected a tower on Ninth Avenue and 
Columbia Streets. This district at that time was un¬ 
platted, a deeply wooded hill-top, and he, too, laid 
wooden pipes, and Coppin’s water works became a 
prominent feature of the landscape. 

From the simple supplying of a necessity, as the 
houses became more numerous, there entered into the 
equation the prospect of profit. The Spring Hill Water 
Co. was formed, and a location was secured on Beacon 
Hill. This, too, gave way to the City Pumping Station 
at Lake Washington, and larger reservoirs in difiPerent 


36 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


parts of the city. This was the city water supply; then 
came the beautifully clear Cedar River water, which 
we enjoy to-day. 

Around the Third and Seneca Street house cluster 
memories of a quarter of a century. Let us sit on the 
porch facing Seneca Street. Diagonally across Third 
Street is Mr. Horton’s residence, a well-kept lawn and 
shrubs surround the two-story house with mansard roof 
and many trimmings, and beyond is the simpler dwell¬ 
ing of Angus Mackintosh. Across Seneca, we see Mr. 
Smith’s, and on Second and Seneca, Mr. Orian Denny’s. 
As the eye wanders toward the Bay, there is Mr. 
Sufferin’s home, and on First Avenue toward the south, 
is Amos Brown’s; while north, on First, we see Mr. 
Coombs’ residence and that of A. A. Denny. Beyond, 
are coal bunkers and a long wharf, and a sailing vessel 
is taking on a cargo of coal. Across the Sound, the 
sun is going down behind Mt. Olympus in flaming 
splendor. 

There are two ways to look for the daily steamers: 
west and north. Their whistles are calls that we all 
know. Now, we see the Zephyr, with Captain Ballard 
at the helm, crossing from Freeport (West Seattle), the 
stern wheel paddling sometimes against wind and 


THE NEW HOME—1871 


37 


wave; to-day it is calm; every other day she comes from 
Olympia via Steilacoom; on alternate days, the Messen¬ 
ger, Captain Parker, makes the same run. These steam¬ 
ers were built at Seattle in 1871 and 1876 respectively. 
Around Magnolia bluff comes the PoUtkojski. Do you 
see the walking-beam? This steamer was built in Sitka, 
Alaska, in 1866,—a Russian-built boat. Now she 
crosses daily from Port Madison. She looks romantic 
and out of place, and strange to say, her story will never 
be told, for one day she will go out from the San Juan 
Straits to her northern home for her final journey in 
her old age. 

The Eliza Anderson was built in Portland, Oregon, in 
1858,—the old Eliza would bring our English cousins 
from British Columbia twice a week. In later years, the 
New Mexico or the Idaho would arrive from San Fran¬ 
cisco. Their approach was heralded by a cannon salute. 
The water-ways were our only letter-carriers. 

As we were looking north, we saw coal bunkers. 
Coal was discovered in the Cascade Mountains long 
before its transportation brought it to the use of the 
village. Wood was abundant, and Chinamen were 
plentiful as wood-sawers. The Newcastle Coal Mine 
and the Renton Mine were opened first, and a method 


38 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


of bringing the coal into the bunkers was worked out 
as follows: barges were towed from the southern shore 
of Lake Washington in a northerly direction to the 
portage, a narrow strip of land separating Lake Union 
and Lake Washington. Here it was shifted to coal cars 
and drawn by mules about a mile to the eastern shore 
of Lake Union. Then it was barged again and towed 
by the Fannie Lake to a point corresponding to the 
beginning of the present Westlake Avenue,—and again 
it was loaded into coal cars and following the diagonal 
line of the present Westlake Avenue it was taken 
through the woods to Pike Street, and thence to the 
wharf and bunkers. Here the cars went up and down 
a steep incline with counter-weight. From our porch, 
if we looked along Third Street past University Street, 
we could see the home of old Uncle John Denny and 
Grandma Denny on Union Street, where the Post Office 
stands to-day. Uncle John Denny was the father of 
Mr. A. A. Denny and Mr. David Denny, and Grandma 
Denny was the mother of the wives of the two brothers. 
After the marriage of the sons, the older pair, widower 
and widow, (Boren) married and later came west to 
end their days with their children. Beyond this corner, 
lived Mr. Harvey Pike, and in his honor was named the 







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THE NEW HOME — 1871 


39 


street. It was not so promising a thoroughfare form¬ 
erly. At Second Street was a marshy piece of ground, 
not passable; the wooden sidewalk was built high and 
one walked carefully. Who would then have visualized 
our McDougall & Southwick corner,—the corner said 
to have the greatest congestion of traffic in the holiday 
or rush hours! The twilight has come while we have 
been on the porch, and we now go in for dinner, and 
later to muse before the coal fire in the grate. This 
dinner may be a fine boiled salmon or perchance an 
Indian hunter has brought us a brace of mallard ducks 
—twenty-five cents,—now and then an Olympia oyster 
stew. There is no evening newspaper, and the letters, 
few in number, are brought home in the pocket of the 
man of the house. Mr. A. A. Denny was the first post¬ 
master. Mr. Lyons sorted our mail. We read the 
letters and there were but few visitors,—so to bed 
early. One night, I remember Father had gone to 
attend a meeting at Mr. Damon’s to consider raising 
money to build a Congregational church edifice. It was 
yet early when Mother heard a heavy-breathing animal 
stop beneath our window near the door, and a low 
grunt and rumbling growl told her that a bear was our 
unwelcome visitor. Hurrying to the front window, she 


40 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


excitedly called, ‘'Mr. Smith, Mr. Lee Smith, please 
come over; there is a bear under our kitchen window, 
and my husband is out, and I am expecting him home 
at any minute. He is unarmed”. Later, two men ap¬ 
peared with guns, but Mr. Bruin had wandered down 
to the beach for clams. Father, swinging his lantern, 
arrived in safety, and all was quiet again. 

The following story has come to me. It tells of what 
occurred before we arrived, but as we are sitting, in our 
thoughts, before that white-marble mantel, looking into 
the glowing coals, we must tell it now. We know 
these Mercer girls, as they are sometimes called, fine 
women, respected in the community, and second to 
none. The men outnumbered the women, and Mr. 
Mercer, seeing the necessity for school-teachers and 
women in households, evolved the plan of interesting 
such as would merit transportation on a sailing vessel 
leaving Boston for Puget Sound, via Cape Horn. Mr. 
Mercer’s plea was answered, and in twos and threes a 
ship’s load was assembled, and with Mr. Mercer in 
charge, the vessel set sail. It must have been a trying 
adventure,—doubtless few realized the distance. The 
vessel touched at San Francisco, but firm in their agree¬ 
ment, they did not desert the ship. One was my school- 











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THE NEW HOME—1871 


41 


teacher in the Central School, located on the block be¬ 
tween Madison and Spring Streets on Third Avenue. 

We did have papers. In order to have "news”, there 
must be some method of gathering data. In those early 
days, letters came by ox-team or by steamer, and there 
were months of waiting. Overland came the Pony Ex¬ 
press to Sacramento, California, and the overland stage 
to Olympia, Washington Territory. Forty-nine-days- 
old news! From Olympia, the letters were brought to 
Seattle by "canoe express”, costing 25 cents per letter. 
Mr. Denny, the first Postmaster, tells us that the last 
express was received August 15, 1853: 22 letters and 
14 newspapers. 

The story is told that Mr. A. A. Denny was appointed 
representative of the Territory of Washington at Wash¬ 
ington, D. C. The notification was so late in reaching 
him that his term of office had expired. 

The Western Union Telegraph was established, and 
the first telegraphic news came over the wire from 
Kansas City October 26, 1864. A paper called The 
Citizen^s Dispatch gave the first item of news: Sherman 
against Hood in the Atlantic campaign. 

August 5, 1867, Mr. S. L. Maxwell sent to press the 
first number of the Weekly Intelligencer. The Weekly 


42 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


Post made its appearance November 21st, 1878, and 
these two papers consolidated October 1, 1881. There 
were various evening papers, one called Dispatch, 
edited by Mr. Beriah Brown and his two sons. 

To-night I am going to bring out some old papers. 

Here is an advertisement: 

"Risk a few hundred dollars in Washington Territory 
Real Estate; a few choice lots in Burk’s Second Addition 
on Lake Washington, $250 to $500," and again,— 
"Two farms of 160 acres each, six miles from the city, 
$5.00 to $20.00 per acre." 

In one paper we read that the C. P. S. R. R. will take 
passengers and freight every day but Sunday to Renton 
and Newcastle from Seattle Depot, King Street, foot of 
Second Street. 

Listen to this: 

Young Ladies, Old Maids, Old Bachelors and all 
other members of the Human Family can sweeten their 
existence by buying some of the Fresh Home-Manu¬ 
factured Candies named here. Chocolates and other 

Caramels, Burnt Almonds, Bonbons, etc.- Piper’s 

Confectionary and Bakery, Front Street. 

In the ’70’s and early ’80’s, the good old custom of 
New Year’s calls, inaugurated in New York City, was a 
social function of importance in Seattle. Housewives 



THE NEW HOME—1871 


43 


prepared their tables of cold meats, cakes, including 
fruit-cake, and served wine and hot coffee to the groups 
of young men who walked from house to house to wish 
them a Happy New Year. Some of the callers had pre¬ 
pared fancy New Year’s cards, and a glance to-day at 
the jokes and style shows them characteristic of boyish 
pranks. Of all the callers, there were three who outdid 
the others: the "Three Orphans”. These men for 
sixteen years journeyed forth with fresh mottoes and 
gaily decorated cards. The fifteenth year the cards 
bore their photographs. They were Mr. H. L. Yesler, 
Mr. Bailey Gatzert, and Mr. M. R. Maddocks. The six¬ 
teenth year the card had the following from the pen of 
Mr. Yesler: 

"Full fifteen years have come and gone 
Since on this journey first we started, 

And yet our hopes are very strong, 

With fifteen more you will be greeted". 

The fire is burning low, and yet there are many more 
things to tell about; here on the center-table is a volume 
of Scott’s novel. Old Mortality, Seattle had a small 
library; this book came from our Public Library. Be¬ 
fore 1870, lovers of books had started a collection, and 
one evening Mr. Angus Mackintosh asked Mother to 


44 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


serve as trustee; the books were then in the Pontius 
Building upstairs, and there was not enough money to 
hire a permanent librarian, so they voted to remove the 
collection to the University, where there was more shelf- 
room and the books would be more accessible. A li¬ 
brary organization was formed in the ’80’s with Mrs. 
Joseph McNaught as President. Quite a sum of money 
was raised by various social activities. Of this organi¬ 
zation, Mother was Treasurer. When the city finally 
took over the work, the ladies’ room was furnished by 
them. Later, the fire of June 6th, 1889, consumed the 
entire building, which had been the residence of the 
family of H. L. Yesler. 




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CHAPTER V 


Vigilantes—1882 

“Avenged!” In black headlines! How tragic it all 
seemed, and how horrible the scene enacted in the 
village center! One thousand persons, so the papers 
said, watching three quivering bodies hang from a beam 
across the Yesler Maple-Trees on James Street! 

This was the first civic uprising, January 18, 1882. 

Mr. George B. Reynolds, a young man of thirty, mar¬ 
ried within a year to Miss Mary Meydenbauer, a Seattle 
girl, returning to his work after supper was held up by 
two men near Third Street on Marion. As he reached 
for his revolver, one of the men said, “Give it to him”, 
and the shot entered his left side. Mr. M. R. Maddocks, 
Mr. C. P. Stone, and several others were soon on the 
spot, having heard the shot. The men ran down the 
alley-way to the south. Mr. Reynolds was carried 
home, and died in less than an hour. The fire-bell was 
rung, and about two hundred citizens congregated at 
the Engine House and organized a Vigilance Commit¬ 
tee to patrol the streets. 


45 


46 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


Two men were found concealed in the hay on Har¬ 
rington and Smith’s Wharf, at the foot of Washington 
Street, one having a revolver from which a shot had 
been fired. Their shoes were removed and they fitted 
exactly in the tracks in the alley-way, as testified to by 
several persons. 

These men gave their names as James Sullivan and 
William Howard. They were taken to the Sheriff’s 
office; things looked desperate for a while, until Sheriff 
Wyckoff and Chief of Police McGraw gave their word 
of honor that the fellows would be taken before a 
magistrate for examination at nine o’clock next morn¬ 
ing. Several hundred people were congregated about 
the jail next morning before nine o’clock. The officers 
came out with their prisoners between them, and went 
to Yesler’s Pavilion at First Street and Cherry. 

Justices Cann and Combs occupied a table on the 
stage. W. H. White, assisted by Judge Jacobs, con¬ 
ducted the examination, and W. H. Holcomb volun¬ 
teered to appear for the prisoners. After the testimony 
of twenty-five persons was taken. Judge Combs said, 
”1 am convinced that the evidence is sufficient to hold 
these men without bail for their appearance to await the 
action of the Grand Jury”. The furies were let loose; 


VIGILANTES — 1882 


47 


pillow-cases were drawn over the heads of certain offi¬ 
cials, one man struggled with Judge Green. Evidently 
by prearrangement, the offenders were rushed to the 
temporary gallows. A long rope reached across the 
square, and as many as could secure a hold pulled on 
the instrument of vengeance. After about twenty min¬ 
utes, they thought of another victim; Benjamin Payne 
was in the jail for the murder of Officer David Sires in 
October. Some four hundred determined men chopped 
their way into the jail and with sledge-hammers broke 
open the iron doors, and three bodies hung from the 
bar across the maple-trees. It was said that three 
graves were dug on the hill, and that from each coffin 
a rope was exposed to view as a warning to other crimi¬ 
nals of the punishment given by the Seattle Vigilance 
Committee. 

The outside places viewed the proceedings with 
approbation. Captain William Renton of Port Blakeley 
telegraphed as follows: 

“If the men arrested for the murder of George 
Reynolds are proven guilty, and the citizens of Seattle 
need any help to hang them, I will shut down the mill 
and furnish all the men needed”. 

From Port Madison: “We congratulate Seattle”. 


48 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


Olympia, Port Townsend, and other places telegraphed 
endorsement. Every road, every boat out of Seattle 
carried vagrants and men of the criminal class. For 
years no thieving or other depredation was committed 
hereabout. This moral code was given out: 

‘Tet it be known to all the world that this was the 
work of no mob; it was the result of the uprising of an 
outraged community of law-abiding citizens”. 


CHAPTER VI 


The First Railroad 

Always there was a longing for railroad connection 
with the outside world. When the Northern Pacific 
officials were scouting about the Sound for a terminus, 
the hope was that they would select Seattle. 

In excitement it would be rumored that Mr. Oakes 
or Mr. Sprague was looking over the ground here,— 
down the Sound—and then Tacoma, not old Tacoma, 
where General McCarver had settled and where Han¬ 
sen, Ackerman & Co. had a large sawmill, but a place 
where their land company could have all the profits of 
the new city, became the terminus of a transcontinental 
railroad. 

A deep depression followed. Money was scarce and 
interest was two and one-half per cent a month. Seattle 
had about one thousand inhabitants. It was smaller 
than Olympia, and had less business than Steilacoom 
and Port Townsend,—the only manufacturing enter¬ 
prise, the Yesler Sawmill, being leased to a San Fran¬ 
cisco concern and operated by Mr. James M. Colman. 


49 


50 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


Then a reaction set in; men were spurred to en¬ 
deavor. A mass meeting was called and the Seattle & 
Walla Walla Railroad was organized. Two days were 
named, and all able-bodied men turned out with pick 
and shovel. How they worked! The women brought 
hot coffee. In this manner about three miles of road¬ 
bed was made ready for the ties, then enthusiasm lan¬ 
guished. 

Then Mr. Colman, of Scotch descent, offered $10,000 
of his hard-earned savings if five others would advance 
an equal amount, and if the people would loan $30,000 
on ten-per-cent bonds, secured by the entire property 
after the $60,000 had been expended upon it. This 
was not agreed to, and again Mr. Colman offered to 
advance $20,000 if other parties would raise $40,- 
000. This last proposition was accepted in the 
spring of 1875. The bonds were never all sold, and of 
the amount subscribed only about $2,000 was paid in. 
The rest of the money necessary for the completion of 
the road to Renton, thirteen miles, was raised by Mr. 
Colman on his personal security. The road was com¬ 
pleted to Renton in 1879. Mr. Villard purchased the 
road and renamed it the Columbia and Puget Sound 
Railroad. "Mr. Colman remained superintendent for 
two and one-half years. 


THE FIRST RAILROAD 


51 


One evening, through Mr. Colman’s courtesy, a group 
of young people listened to music produced in the Ren¬ 
ton office. This was the first telephone installed in 
Seattle, and was for the private use of the Railroad 
Company. 

In September, 1882, the driving of the last spike in 
the construction of the Northern Pacific Railroad was 
celebrated by its president, Mr. Henry Villard of New 
York City, and a large party of American, English, and 
German capitalists were his guests. After the driving 
of the "spike”, they toured on to Tacoma, the railroad's 
terminus. 

Seattle rallied to the occasion and staged a royal 
welcome; columns in the daily papers of that date are 
filled with the account of the festivities. There was a 
barbecue on the University grounds and ^^Lux Sit”, the 
motto of the University, chosen by President Powell, 
was prominent. We needed intellectual light because 
we did not have very bright street lights, and to fulfil 
the motto, the gathered crowd were addressed by such 
brilliant men as Charles Francis Adams of the celebrated 
Massachusetts family, Mr. Carl Schurz, and Mr. Henry 
Villard, who were introduced by Dr. T. T. Minor in 
the absence of Judge Struve, the Mayor. 


52 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


The Carbonado Band discoursed music, and at the 
long tables many men were fed. ^^Lux That eve¬ 
ning the sky was resplendent with an Aurora Borealis. 
Some of us were viewing the scene from the bay in row¬ 
boats. Far up toward the eastern sky-line behind our 
beloved University, brilliant banners of crimson, ame¬ 
thyst, and white pulsated in unearthly brilliance. 


I 


CHAPTER VII 
School Days 

As you see the gathering boys and girls and hear the 
bell, your memories and mine are much the same. We 
recall the pleasure of meeting, the quick step and the 
slow—the "learning”, to most of us, was secondary— 
the view from the portico, and the great day when we 
stepped forth as graduates. We have little to say 
about it now, but it was so big that it filled our horizon 
then. Dr. A. J. Anderson read each morning from the 
Proverbs, and we, so full of hope and merriment, 
remembered in after years his pertinent remarks. 

There hangs in Denny Hall a painting of Dr. Ander¬ 
son presented to the University by a few of his pupils. 
All that is left of the old University building are four 
Ionic Columns, standing like their Greek forbears as 
a little reminder of other days, our school days. They 
are out by Lake Washington where our newer and 
grander Alma Mater calls us home once a year. 


53 


54 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


THE COLUMNS 

There are four tall shafts of misty white, 

In a sylvan court, embowered in green. 

Ghosts of a past—out of the night 

What is your story, what have you seen? 

Snatched from the burning, snatched from the path 
Of Mammon’s greed, where Mammon sways, 

You are all that is left, an aftermath 

Of the place we loved, and our old school days. 

We know your story, oh, Columns Tall, 

The square white building, the tone of the bell; 

We know the portico, tower and all. 

Up on the hill, we know so well. 

You looked toward the water and mountains white. 
And the little steamers which plied the Sound, 

And we looked at you, ’twas a pleasant sight. 

Oh, Columns, how memories crowd around! 

And are you waiting and watching, too. 

Silent and lone in this beautiful grove? 

We’ll make a rendezvous here with you, 

’Tis Sanctuary here,—where’er one may rove. 

E. S. R. 



The Columns 






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CHAPTER VIII 


Visiting U. S. Presidents 

It is a wonder that any President of the United States 
ever found this little northwest corner with its big¬ 
feeling inhabitants. First, there came President 
Rutherford B. Hayes and Mrs. Hayes, together with the 
two Generals Sherman. 

We gave them a reception in Squires Opera House. 
Sweet Lucy Webb Hayes—so fine! We took off our 
white kid gloves to touch her ungloved hand. There 
was no cross-country railroad; they came via Portland, 
Oregon. 

The next Chief Magistrate to enter Seattle was Presi¬ 
dent Harrison. He was received by Princess Angeline, 
as has been told before. 

When President Roosevelt arrived, we gave him a 
proper greeting on the University Campus, and he in 
turn gave one of his stirring speeches. We had visits 
from President Wilson and President Harding, and 
later, the radio brought the voice of President Coolidge 
within the walls of one’s own living-room, across three 
thousand miles of rivers, forests, farms, and mountains. 


55 


CHAPTER IX 


Mystery Ships 

Some are in the annals of history, and many are for¬ 
gotten. Wraiths of memory—a cry between the 
silences! 

The George S. Wright steamed south in Alaskan 
waters in 1872, and no authentic details of the fate of 
the unfortunate passengers or crew were ever heard. It 
is supposed that she encountered a snowstorm in Queen 
Charlotte Sound at the northern end of the island, and 
any who may have escaped the icy waters were prob¬ 
ably murdered by the Indians. No wreckage was 
reported. 

The sailing ship Ivanhoe went out from a Seattle 
dock early one morning with the usual crew and an edi¬ 
tor of the Post-Intelligencer, who, as guest of the cap¬ 
tain, was taking a much-needed rest en route to San 
Francisco, California. Never has word come as to when 
or where she met her fate. Weeks and months of wait¬ 
ing, watching, and grief have lengthened into years, and 
nothing has come but the stern of a ship’s boat with 
Ivanhoe painted on it, picked up by the Indians on the 
British Columbia coast. 


56 


MYSTERY SHIPS 


57 


A little steamer was plying its usual route across 
Puget Sound from Seattle to Port Blakely one Saturday 
night, then, as now, the one late boat of the week, 
carrying a happy group of passengers returning from 
the theatre or other amusement. There was no land¬ 
ing—somewhere lies the wreckage. 

One more tale and we are done. A big, fine ship 
lay at anchor in Tacoma Bay, the Andalusian. The 
crew were not to go ashore, but one man succeeded in 
getting away from the vessel. After a few drinks, he 
decided to sneak back, hoping to be unnoticed. When 
he arrived at the pier about midnight, there was no 
Andalusian. He thought hurriedly, "Where is she? 
Have they changed anchorage?” He hid himself on 
shore for the rest of the night, but in the morning there 
was still nothing to be seen, and from that time to this 
the mystery has remained unsolved. 

There are tales of disaster and drowning, including 
the loss of three of our well-known citizens: Dr. T. T. 
Minor, Mr. G. Morris Haller, and Mr. Louis Cox, one 
dark stormy night, when they were attempting to cross 
the Sound in two canoes. The bodies were found later. 
The going down of the Queen of the Pacific near the 
Straits is another of the tragedies which bring us face 
to face with the mystery of life. 


CHAPTER X 


Chinese Troubles 

It was a bright, peaceful Sunday morning; household 
duties were being hurried through preparatory to 
church-going; there were few people on the streets. 
Mother was opening an upper-story window, the catch 
failed to snap, and the falling of the window sounded 
sharply on the still air. Three people stopped, looked 
quickly around, hesitated and then went on. We 
looked after them and said, ‘'Something is in the air; 
they thought that was a shot”. "Yes”, said Mother, 
"I believe they have been up all night”. 

There had been considerable agitation as to the pres¬ 
ence of the Chinese in the city. They were our vege¬ 
table men, laundrymen, and the real workers. In our 
kitchens, as cooks, they were faithful and dependable. 
There were no Japanese here at this time, and but few 
foreigners of any sort to take their place. We were 
feeling a little wave of the restless tide which was 
sweeping over Europe and America. London had had 
her uprisings, Chicago her Haymarket. Around agita¬ 
tors from outside as a nucleus, a few had gathered. 


58 


CHINESE TROUBLES 


59 


Some of the women associates had been about request¬ 
ing the people not to employ Chinese in any capacity. 
We were buying very nice home-grown vegetables from 
the Chinese gardener who came to the door balancing 
his baskets hung from a pole on his shoulder. The 
Chinese had planted two gardens, one on Mr. David 
Denny’s tract on the north and the other on the 
Duwamish river, south. 

It was not many hours after, on that same Sunday 
morning, that the University bell rang three times three. 
Young men ran down the street to the Armory, rifle in 
hand. The Armory was situated on Second Street be¬ 
tween Spring and Seneca, just opposite Plymouth Con¬ 
gregational Church. We went to church at Plymouth. 
Rev. Henry L. Bates, with rifle in pulpit, offered a 
prayer, then dismissed the congregation to join his com¬ 
pany, the Home Guards, Captain George B. Kinnear, 
while others joined the Seattle Rifles, Captain Joseph 
Green. This was February 7, 1886. 

At daylight, Sunday morning, after being in confer¬ 
ence all night, in pursuance of a carefully arranged 
secret understanding, groups of men, five or six in 
number, had gone to all the Chinese quarters through¬ 
out the city and told the occupants to pack up and 


60 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


leave the city, and that the Queen of the Pacific would 
sail at ten o’clock and they were to go on her. Imagine 
the consternation and chattering of these foreign 
people! They were not allowed to prepare any break¬ 
fast, and but faintly comprehended the situation. Soon 
wagons came, and quickly but forcefully they were 
loaded with Chinamen and bundles and dumped their 
freight on the ocean dock, where the committee left 
guards to prevent the Chinese returning. 

Because of the number of steerage passengers, the 
price of a ticket was reduced to $7.00 to San Francisco, 
and Mr. Lyman Wood went among the crowd and col¬ 
lected the necessary fare. After these tickets were ex¬ 
hausted, and eight Chinamen had purchased their own, 
there were still left on the wharf two hundred and 
fifteen Chinamen. By this time, the police realized 
their helplessness in preserving order unaided, although 
thus far there had been no resistance. Now, some of 
the agitators threatened to compel the Queen to take 
on board the remaining Chinamen. Captain Alexander 
coupled his hose to the hot-water boiler and was ready 
to receive the first onslaught. Sheriff McGraw now 
ordered the fire-bell rung at No. 1 Engine House, and 
the Vigilantes rang their three times three from the 


CHINESE TROUBLES 


61 


University Cupola. Then the citizens knew that a 
crisis was at hand. Sheriff McGraw notified Governor 
Squire, who happened to be in the city, then armed his 
deputies. Governor Squire sent the following dispatch 
to Secretaries Lamar and Endicott and Brigadier Gen¬ 
eral Gibbon of the Department of the Columbia: 

Immense mob forcing Chinese to leave Seattle. Civil 
authorities arming posse comitatus to protect them. 
Serious conflict probable. I respectfully request that 
United States troops be immediately sent to Seattle, 

Watson C. Squire 
Governor, 

W ashington T err it ory. 

At noon. Deputy United States Marshal Henry under 
an armed escort of twenty or more deputy sheriffs went 
to the corner of Commercial and Washington Streets 
and read the following proclamation: 

To THE People of Washington Territory 
WHEREAS: it is represented to me by the Mayor of 
the City of Seattle as follows: 

"Hon. W. C. Squire—Sir: The Chinese residents of 
this City are being unlawfully removed from the city by 
a mob unlawfully gathered together. The authority of 
the city is not sufficient to keep the peace or preserve 
order. I appeal to you for aid and assistance, 

"Henry L. Yesler, Mayor” 


62 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


NOW, THEREFORE, I, Watson C. Squire, Governor 
of Washington Territory, do hereby publish this my 
proclamation, warning all persons to desist from breach 
of the peace, and that peaceably disposed persons shall 
retire to their houses . . . 

Done in Seattle this seventh day of February, A. D. 
1886. 

WATSON C. SQUIRE, Governor. 

This proclamation was received with jeers and de¬ 
risive shouts; the armed escort were hooted at on their 
return to the Court House. Shortly before the sailing of 
the Queen, a Chinese resident swore out a writ of habeas 
corpus, setting forth that there were ninety-seven sub¬ 
jects of the Emperor of China unlawfully detained on 
board the steamship Queen of the Pacific. This writ 
was served upon Captain Alexander, ordering him to 
produce the bodies of the ninety-seven Chinese in court 
and show why they should not be released. At ten 
o’clock. Captain Alexander appeared with his counsel, 
Mr. James McNaught, to ask an amendment to this 
writ to the effect that he had not sufficient force to de¬ 
liver the bodies at the Court House, but would deliver 
them upon the dock. To this Judge Roger S. Green 
agreed, and set the time of hearing for seven-fifteen 


CHINESE TROUBLES 


63 


o’clock, Monday morning. Up to midnight, the city 
was virtually in the hands of the mob. Great excite¬ 
ment prevailed throughout the resident portions. Here 
and there a Chinaman who had secreted himself from 
the rioters would appear at the back door of a friendly 
family and seek food or shelter; when we assured him 
that our country’s laws would protect him, he would 
lose the hunted, furtive look and express much grati¬ 
tude. 

Mrs. H. L. Yesler’s experience was perhaps the most 
spectacular. She had had a fine Chinese cook for many 
years; a large courageous fellow. In the first hours of 
the upheaval, he had gone over to a wash-house, in 
which he was interested to see what remained of the 
clothes, as there was much looting. Soon he came run¬ 
ning home, jumped over the fence, and ran into the 
house. Mrs. Yesler, looking out of the window, saw 
six or seven men in the back yard. She lived at the 
corner of Front and James Streets, where' is now the 
Pioneer Building. Hastily locking her doors, she 
awaited their coming. Soon there sounded a rap at her 
kitchen door. She called from a window, "What 
do you want.^” One of two men who were there re¬ 
plied, "We want your Chinamen; you have two hidden 


64 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


in your house”. With all her dignity, she calmly 
answered: ”My husband is Mayor of this City and 
must stand by the law, and as I am his wife I must 
stand by the law, too. This is my house, and I will 
protect it”. One of the crowd answered, "Mayor or no 
Mayor, you must give up your Chinamen. Your house 
is nothing! If you don’t give up your Chinamen, we 
will blow up your house”. There arrived just then two 
men, Mr. D. H. Gilman and a companion, who being 
deputy sheriffs arrested a Mr. Cooper, and the other man 
left. When the excitement in this household abated, 
Mrs. Yesler found her cook behind her, armed with a 
big knife, and ready to protect her at any cost. 

Monday morning pursuant to order. Sheriff McGraw 
took two militia companies, the Home Guard and the 
Seattle Rifles and brought the Chinamen who were on 
the wharf and the steamer up to the Court House 
grounds. Those on the ship were taken into Court. 
Lue King acted as interpreter. W. H. White, U. S. 
Prosecuting Attorney, appeared for the Chinamen, and 
James McNaught for Captain Alexander. Judge Roger 
S. Green spoke as follows: "Tell them that the Court 
has been told that they are confined on board the steam¬ 
ship, Queen of the Pacific, against their will. The Court 



The Old Yesler Home, Front and Jefferson Streets, July 4, 1883 


































































CHINESE TROUBLES 


65 


is willing, if they desire, that they shall go as passen¬ 
gers, but no man or set of men has a right to compel 
them to go. So if they wish to stay, they must let the 
Court know it now. . . . Tell them not to be 
afraid to speak what is in their hearts. The Govern¬ 
ment is strong and will protect them”. There were but 
sixteen who were courageous enough to desire to stay; 
more money was raised, and finally one hundred and 
ninety-six Chinamen were taken on board the steamer; 
—all she was allowed to carry,—the lines were thrown 
off, hands were shaken, and every one thought the end 
of an exciting and unpleasant episode was at hand. 

The remaining Chinamen picked up their belongings 
and under escort of the Home Guards, with Sheriff 
McGraw, started up the wharf to their partially de¬ 
molished houses in the Chinese quarter. From the start 
they were shouted at by hoodlums, and others were 
harrassed. When they reached the corner of Main and 
Commercial Streets, the crowd closed in on the Guard, 
who clubbed the mob as they came with the intent of 
seizing their rifles. It became evident that the struggle 
was to result in bloodshed. At the first onslaught, the 
Chinamen fell down on their belongings and the fight 
was over their prostrate bodies. A pistol-shot came 


66 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


from the mob and out rang the rifle-shots from the 
Home Guard. The Seattle Rifles were still on the 
wharf; hearing the shots, they formed into line and in 
double-quick came up in fine style. Thus opposed, the 
mob now numbering thousands battled and John 
Keane, a well-known agitator took a soap-box and, ad¬ 
dressing the crowd, advised them to go home, saying, 
"Enough damage has already been done.” Voices from 
the crowd shouted, "Burke, give us Burke!” Some 
thought that his eloquent ready appeal would be calm¬ 
ing to both sides, as all people listened to him always, 
a friend to the Chinese, the working man, and the law- 
abiding citizen. 

The shooting took place at 12:15 o’clock. Four of 
the wounded were taken to Providence Hospital. 
Charles G. Stewart, who it seems from his own state¬ 
ment was one of the leaders of the insurgents, was 
shot through the arm and through the body. He was 
about thirty-four years old, worked in the woods when 
he had work, and had been in Seattle about two and 
one-half months. Like so many, he paid for those 
whose brains laid the plots. 

On February 8, 1886, the following orders were 
issued by Governor Squire: 


CHINESE TROUBLES 


67 


Martial law having been proclaimed by me as Gov¬ 
ernor of Washington Territory, I hereby announce the 
following members of my Staff: 

Adj. General — Col. G. 0. Haller 

Asst. Adj. General — G. M. Haller 

Aids —/. H. McGraw, Geo. G. Lyon, C. H. Kittinger, 

L. S. Booth 

Judge Advocate—General Henry G. Struve 
Quartermaster—General James McNaught 
Provo Marshal — A. E. Alden 
Commissary—General Geo. D. Hill 
Surgeon General — Dr. T. T. Minor. 

On Wednesday, February 10, 1886, the steamer, 
Haywood, rounded Alki Point at 1:30, and the Seattle 
Daily Post-Intelligencer of the eleventh, said, "That 
Means Business”. Eight companies of the l4th Infan¬ 
try under command of Lieutenant Colonel de Russy 
from Vancouver Barracks arrived and were stationed at 
the Pacific House and the Standard Theatre. Almost 
immediately, notices were posted about the city com¬ 
manding disturbers of the peace to disperse by six 
o’clock on the tenth, inst. These were signed by John 
Gibbon, Brigadier General U. S. Army. 

The side-lights of the days of martial law were pro¬ 
ductive of many stories. "What is martial law”? said 


68 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


Gen. Gibbon to a woman whose utterances had been 
construed as incendiary. ”It’s no law at all; it’s the 
will of one man. I could have you taken out and 
shot here and now and I should be within my rights”. 
Trembling in fright, her long bony fingers tightly 
clasped, her once piercing black eyes lowered, all de¬ 
fiance gone, she went out from his presence, possibly 
remembering her night vigil and the report of the 
closing window. 

While the men were doing picket duty, some of the 
women were preparing baskets of sandwiches, dough¬ 
nuts, and hot coffee. These were given passes, and 
their work was much appreciated when the midnight 
lunch hour arrived. The Ladies’ Relief Society, pre¬ 
viously organized for public service as a means of ex¬ 
tending charity to the worthy needy, also gave of their 
time, and received much praise and newspaper pub¬ 
licity for their ready help. 


CHAPTER XI 


The Fire—June 6, 1889 

There was a little glue-pot in the basement of a First 
Avenue store; there arose a flame; and before that little 
flame was quenched, sixty-five acres, the entire business 
section of the city, lay in ashes. 

It was a warm afternoon; the fire department, com¬ 
posed of volunteer firemen, was handicapped by lack 
of water. Buildings were dynamited in the path of 
the fire, but to no avail. There was a row of wooden 
stores on the west side of First Street with basements 
over the bluff. Mrs. Pontius owned this property. One 
two-story building above the street had housed the first 
public library, and later the Y. M. C. A. Below these 
buildings to the south was another row of wooden 
buildings, the second story of each of which was used 
as a lodging-house. In these buildings the flames 
gained headway. It was about 2:30 o’clock in the 
afternoon that the unfortunate painter and his glue-pot 
started so great a blaze. The wind was to the south, 
but the heat worked northward, and First and Second 
Streets seemed doomed their entire length. Heroically, 


69 


70 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


men worked on the roof of the Armory, at Second and 
Spring Streets, using wet blankets and garden hose as 
long as the water lasted. Time and again, little tongues 
of flame flickered from the great roof, but this effort 
saved First and Second and Third Street residences, and 
Plymouth Church. 

To the south, it was a holocaust as far as King 
Street and Trinity Church on Jefferson Street and 
Third. All the banks were gone but one, and all the 
business houses but one. Strange to say, the Jail did 
not burn. 

Mayor Moran called out the Militia. No one was 
permitted to enter the burned district without a pass. 
It was necessary to maintain guards about the bank 
safes, which were embedded in the ashes. 

The roster of the companies of the Militia was as 
follows: Company C, Tacoma; Company G, Port 
Blakely; Companies B, D and E, Seattle. 

The building owned and occupied by the Post-lntelU- 
gencer on the northeast corner at Yesler Way and Post 
was completely destroyed, but not an issue of the paper 
was omitted. A small sheet, called the "Fire Edition", 
scorched on one side, was printed. Mr. Will H. Parry 
wrote the account of the fire by the light of a lantern as 


THE FIRE —JUNE 6, 1889 


71 


he sat on the steps of the Methodist Church, at corner 
of Third and Marion Streets. A press was obtained, and 
set up on skids in the open air under the orchard trees, 
with a threshing-machine engine for motive power. A 
paper issued June ninth was seventeen and one-half 
inches by eleven and one-half inches in size. Tempo¬ 
rary headquarters. Fourth and Columbia Streets, were 
established for the Post-Intelligencer in a former resi¬ 
dence situated amid berry-bushes and fruit-trees. The 
Editorial of one edition starts thus: ”It might have 
been worse”. Headlines—”No Wooden Buildings— 
Confidence not Shaken. Tacoma to the Relief”. 

The brotherliness of surrounding cities was a sweet 
example of Christian charity. Tacoma gathered food 
and clothing, also bedding, and had them in Seattle by 
Friday night. A large tent was erected on University 
and Third Streets. Cots were placed in position, and 
it is estimated that four hundred people found rest 
there the first night. The next day they put up long 
tables, and at 6:30 commenced serving meals. Fully 
three hundred and fifty meals an hour were served all 
day long. At 8:30, the tables were removed and re¬ 
placed with cots. The demand was so great that an¬ 
other tent was put up, having quarters more private for 


72 


SEATTLE MEMORIES 


women, and a wooden building was erected in the rear 
to be used as store-house and for cooking purposes. 
Here twenty cooks and half as many dishwashers were 
employed. Drayloads of bread and smoked meats con¬ 
stantly arriving kept twenty waiters conveying this food 
to the tables. 

Hundreds of telegrams offering assistance from all 
over the country arrived. Vancouver, B. C., June 
eighth, remitted $1,000 to Mayor Moran through the 
Bank of British Columbia, with this message: "Wire if 
• you want clothing”. 

Here are some advertisements in every paper of June 
ninth: 

LOST: Remington typewriter No. 2. Was left in the 
yard of Mr. H. L. Yesler. 

LOST: One-half walnut office desk. 

The Seattle Hardware Co. have bought the car stables, 
corner Pike and Second Streets, and will be ready for 
business as soon as the building can be made over. 
An entire stock has been telegraphed for. 

Every business concern commandeered a location; a 
tent was put up or a temporary building erected out¬ 
side the burned area, and the cheerfulness of all helped 
to bridge over the losses. A sum of money had been 


THE FIRE —JUNE 6, 1889 


73 


pledged by Seattle to the Johnstown Flood Sufferers. 
It was suggested at a Citizens’ meeting to plan the 
rebuilding of Seattle, with wider streets and brick build¬ 
ings, that this money be withheld for our needs. The 
overwhelming response was "No”! and it is said that 
the "Seattle Spirit” was born then and there. 


CHAPTER XII 


Reconstruction 

Phoenix-like, the city began, almost before the ashes 
were cold, to be reshaped. 

Now the Territory has entered into Statehood,—the 
thirtieth State to be admitted into the Union. In 1889 
Governor Elisha P. Ferry, a former Territorial Gover¬ 
nor, was the first to be elected to that office by the 
people. 

Philanthropy and Art are stirring. It is a period of 
organization. We have spoken of the Ladies’ Relief 
Society. This was Seattle’s first charitable organization. 
It was incorporated in 1883, and after helping the 
needy in many ways, it started a children’s home in 
1884. In politics, we would not forget the Apple 
Orchard Convention. It was a revolt from the old 
political lines by the young men, and took its name 
from their dramatic withdrawal to an apple orchard. 
Youth won in the conflict at the polls. Art classes and 
music instructors were seriously awakening dormant 
faculties, and inspiring their students to a freer expres¬ 
sion. The Ladies’ Musical Club came into being. 


74 



Mount Rainier 






RECONSTRUCTION 


75 


An announcement coming from the University of 
Washington tells us that on the faculty in the Depart¬ 
ment of Music, Miss Minnie Thorndyke is teacher of 
piano and organ. Mrs. J. M. Pearlman of vocal culture. 
Art Department, Miss Kate Allmond. These were not 
the first teachers. Mr. Gustave Railing had art classes 
in the early ’80’s, and Mrs. Russell and Mrs. David 
Kellogg taught the piano in the ’70’s. Of our teachers 
and clergymen we have spoken—not all, but the few 
who come nearest to us—but the physicians, the ones to 
whom we turn when illness comes, they, too, are re¬ 
membered. We did not have epidemics; we lived 
sanely and simply. Dr. Heminway was one of the first, 
and Dr. G. A. Weed, 1870, then Dr. E. L. Smith, 1877. 


CHAPTER XIII 


Gold—1896 

When the Portland steamed into Puget Sound and 
Elliott Bay with bits of yellow nuggets and the news of 
a "find” in the north country, a fever came upon us all. 
There was no peace. The nearer we were to the new 
Eldorado, the more anxious were we to be the first to 
claim a right to the earth’s hidden treasure. Young 
and old, men and women, forsook their homes and in 
the mad rush, climbing the trails, fording the rushing 
streams, or rafting through the White Horse Rapids, 
lost their all, even their lives, for gold. 

The Klondike, like a siren beckoned to the frenzied, 
not only in Seattle, but to those in the east and south 
and Europe, too. They came by steamboat, by train, 
by sailing vessel. Every merchant here was busy with 
the necessary "outfits”; to grub-stake a man cost about 
two hundred dollars. Those who could not leave sent 
others out on shares. Piles of boxes filled the sidewalks 
day and night—such a packing of necessities! Even the 


76 


GOLD — 1896 


77 


dogs came in for their share of the excitement. Up and 
down the streets, all sorts were being trained to harness. 
"Mush!” "Mush!” and a crack of the whip! A motley 
team dragging a sled on bare ground; later the mala- 
mute, supplanted them. Horses were shipped to Skag- 
way or Dyee, and the poor animals, one after the other, 
went over the bluffs, a sacrifice. Happy the man whose 
life had trained him for the open. The bank clerk and 
the logger, side by side, boarded outgoing steamers. 
There was a look on their faces that we who saw will 
never forget. 

There was gold in the Klondike and gold at Nome, 
and fortunes were made, but those who knew the hard¬ 
ships say that what was so eagerly sought was gained 
at a bitter cost. 


CHAPTER XIV 


The New Century—1900 

Old friends, old scenes will lovelier be 
As more of heaven in each we see. 

John Keble. 

i 

It is a new day—long since the birds have sung their 
matins—the dawn in rosy draperies is still hiding be¬ 
hind the snowy peaks of the Cascade Mountains. Lake 
Washington, all expectant, waits in the dim morn to 
reflect the mood of the overhanging sky. In stately 
grandeur, Mount Rainier, snowy and cold, is waiting, 
too; slowly—slowly—far to the south, look! Mount 
Rainier, 14,500 feet in the upper spaces, has caught the 
glow. 

It is life—life—and the new day. 

Life is more than fame or pleasure. 

More than social place or treasure. 

Life is not this selfish living, 

But of self the constant giving 
For the betterment of others; 

Then, if life bring fame or treasure. 

Social place or harmless pleasure. 

Twill but give an added joy 

Other "talents” to employ 

For the good of mankind brothers— 

This is living 
Life’s true measure. 

E. S. R. 


78 




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